


Vacation

by lamardeuse



Category: I Spy (1965)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-19
Updated: 2010-03-19
Packaged: 2017-10-08 03:21:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/72155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamardeuse/pseuds/lamardeuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scotty wants a day off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vacation

Kel thought it was pretty damned funny, though he stifled his laughter when Scotty's dark eyes shot about a half dozen daggers at him. The effect was ruined a little by the fact that Scotty's eyes were the only parts of him that weren't currently covered in mud.

“Oh, come on,” Kelly said, spreading his hands. “Surely, sir, you must admit that this is – well, it's – ”

“Not. Funny,” Scotty finished, voice dripping icicles while the rest of him dripped the finest Italian clay. The bath house where they'd caught up with Ivan had seen better days; the florid nineteenth-century architecture designed to lure American tourists in search of a rest cure had lost its appeal, and the faux-gilt accents had dulled with age and mildew. At the present time it was leading a sad existence as a hangout for fat, middle-aged, balding businessmen, fat, old, balding businessmen, and – in Ivan's case, anyway – weasely, hygiene-deficient turncoat double-agents.

Kel scratched the back of his neck as he regarded Ivan laid out flat on the cracked, stained mosaic tile. “I was just gonna wait for him to get out of the mud, myself. But – ”

“I tripped!” Scotty exploded, waving his hands. “I slipped in a puddle, and I fell flat on my – ” He trailed off, wincing.

“What is it?” Kel demanded.

“Nothing,” Scotty said sullenly, hands kneading his lower back.

“Please do not force me to break out the rubber hose.”

Scotty shook his head. “I think I pulled something.”

Kel pursed his lips to stop the grin threatening to form. Usually he was the one to play the sympathy angle to distract Scotty; it was heartening to see Scotty taking a page from his book for a change.

“Okay, well, I think it's about time we handed this squab over to the junior team.” He poked at Ivan with the toe of his boot. “You stay here and keep an eye on Sleeping Beauty and I'll find a phone in this fleatrap and call 'em.”

Scotty eyed him dubiously. “But we should be the ones to question him.”

Kelly rolled his eyes. “He's small potatoes. It'll be good practice for them. And you – ” he pointed a finger “– are not in a fit state to interrogate anyone. In fact, I don't even think the cabs will stop for us. Geez, we'll have to walk back to the hotel, I hate that – ”

“Will you please go and call them already?” Scotty snapped.

Kelly couldn't help it; he grinned as he tipped an invisible hat. “As you command, _signori_.”

    
    
    
    
   
    
    
    
    
 

  
Even after getting his way, Scotty was still crabby, his mood not improved by the ten-block walk to the hotel, during which they garnered more than their fair share of stares. As soon as they reached the room, he began stripping, heedless of the flakes of dried mud that sloughed off his clothes as he headed to the bathroom. Kelly paced the floor, threw open the wide windows and escaped to smoke a cigarette on the balcony when the steam billowed out of the shower and filled the room.

Scotty emerged nearly a half hour later and collapsed onto the bed face down, the towel still wrapped around his waist. Kelly's gaze dipped to the taut curves badly hidden by the material, then back up again.

“So what's up with you, anyway?” Kel demanded.

Scotty didn't answer at first, and Kel wondered if he'd fallen asleep already. Finally, he murmured, “Dunno. Just tired, I guess. Wanted one day off.”

Kelly knew exactly where he was coming from. Having a jetsetting playboy persona as your cover had its drawbacks when the government was signing your paychecks; the pencil-pushers at the Pentagon figured that since your life was one constant party, you didn't need much vacation time. “Well, you've got it. Now what?”

Scotty shifted and groaned softly, and Kelly moved instinctively to sit beside him on the bed, then placed his hands on Scotty's warm shoulders. Scotty jerked.

“Listen, you. Quit your squirming.”

Beneath Kelly's hands, the muscles under the skin bunched as Scotty tried to push himself up from the mattress. “Look, all I need is some rest, and – ohhh – ” Scotty's voice trailed off on a moan as Kel's fingers unerringly sought the sore spots. He collapsed back onto the bed a few seconds later in surrender.

“That's right,” Kel soothed. “You just let auntie Kelly take care of your owies.”

Scotty rested his head on his folded arms and chuckled. “All my aunts wore flower print dresses and weighed three hundred pounds.”

“I'll wear the dress, but there's no way in hell I'm putting on weight,” Kel grinned as he stroked up Scotty's sides with feather-light caresses. They soon fell into a rhythm, Kelly doing his best to catalogue Scotty's injuries, commit them to the memory of his fingers so that he applied exactly the right pressure here and here and _here_ to relieve the pain.

“Hey,” Scotty said sleepily after a few minutes of Kelly's ministrations, “y're pretty good at this.”

“I taught you everything you know,” Kelly boasted. "Luckily, you're a pretty fast learner." Scotty snorted and relaxed even more into the mattress. Kel watched his eyes fall shut in pleasure as he found a sensitive place and probed it gently. Scotty's body was beautiful, like melted chocolate wrapped around steel, and Kel took what he could from this while trying to give as much as possible. He'd long since reconciled himself to the fact that this was something he couldn't have. It was by no means the only thing, but it was the most important. He would not mar the surface or the substance of this man, not for all the tea in China, and certainly not for his own selfish pleasure.

Ironically, it was that same motive which kept his hands above Scotty's waist, that always brought him snapping back to reality when he caught himself staring at his partner a little too long, touching him too frequently, smiling at him too broadly. Because if he did try anything, Scotty would run, and Kelly wanted to keep him close for as long as possible. For as long as Scotty would put up with him, with this crazy half-life they'd created together.

_Two halves make a whole_, Kelly thought, watching his fingers knead Scotty's pliant flesh. _That's elementary math_. And it was true, after a fashion; over seven years they'd managed to build something from the shadows and lies, some fundamental truth that was the most real thing about his life now, maybe the most real thing he'd experienced since his mother had died all those years ago.

Scotty grunted then, and Kelly hesitated, fingers stilling. “Okay?” Scotty nodded but didn't turn, and Kel resumed his work. He frowned as he caught a glimpse of something, and leaned slightly over Scotty's body to take a look.

There, behind his right ear, was a tiny streak of mud that Scotty had failed to wash off. Before Kel knew what he was doing, he was reaching out to brush it away. The moment his fingertips touched skin, he knew he'd made a mistake; Scotty sucked in a breath and went utterly still under him, and Kel realized he was pinning Scotty's body to the mattress. He pulled back quickly, muttering an apology, the heat of Scotty's skin still branding him through his thin shirt.

Silence reigned for a few moments as Kel stood and rummaged around for a cigarette. He found it and lit it, drawing a couple of quick, short puffs to try to restore his equilibrium. It didn't help.

When he found the courage to look back toward the bed, he found Scotty lying on his side, head propped up on his elbow, watching him. He looked away, took a longer drag this time.

“I, uh,” Scotty started softly, “I know you – swing the other way sometimes,” and all the smoke and oxygen left Kel's lungs in a rush.

“That wasn't – ” he croaked.

“I know it wasn't.” Still soft.

Kelly shook his head, confused.

Scotty made an aborted gesture with his free hand; Kel realized that if he could, he'd be blushing right now, and God, that was –

“What I mean is, how come you never – with me?”

Kelly stared at him. Scotty was devastatingly smart and an excellent observer, so it came as no real surprise that he'd discovered Kelly's proclivities, but this was the first time they'd ever talked about it openly. And it figured that Scotty's first question on the subject would be the toughest to answer.

Kel stubbed out the cigarette and moved to sit on the bunk facing Scotty. “Because,” he said slowly, “because it's not – something I'm proud of. And I'm proud of this. Of us.”

Scotty frowned at that, then pushed himself gingerly to a sitting position, face twisting as the pain hit him. Kelly had to dig his nails into his palms to keep from reaching out to help him. “Seems to me,” Scotty said thoughtfully, “the list of things we're not proud of is getting longer these days.”

Kel barked a laugh without any humor in it. “Yeah,” he agreed. “That is the truth.”

“Are you not proud of it because of what you do, or who you do it with?” Scotty asked, tilting his head slightly, and Kelly almost choked on his own spit.

“We have to talk about this, do we?” he managed after a moment. He tried to escape Scotty's steady gaze, but he couldn't force himself to look away.

“Yeah, Kel, I think maybe we do,” Scotty murmured, “because I want to know. Do you think it would be different if you weren't lookin' for quickies in the shady section of the towns we hit, if you weren't gettin' it from bored rich boys who want to say they bagged a tennis star?”

Kelly ran a hand over his face. “Man, you don't give a guy much room to breathe, do you?”

Scotty tugged his hand away, held it firmly in his. “Would it be different with somebody who gave a damn about you?” he murmured.

“Are you saying,” Kelly gusted, “that you are thinking about – ”

“I've thought about it,” Scotty said, gaze as frank as the words. “Once or twice.”

“Jesus Christ,” Kel breathed, everything he thought he'd known about his partner suddenly tilting on its axis. “Why?”

Scotty stared at him, then surprised Kel by chuckling.

“What's so damned funny?” Kel demanded. He tried to pry his hand out of Scotty's grip but was held fast.

“You,” Scotty managed finally. His thumb, Kel realized, was stroking gently against Kel's palm, back and forth over his lifeline. “But you're only funny to me, Chester. Remember that.”

“What – ”

“Kel,” Scotty whispered, leaning closer, “shut up for a minute,” and then his lips brushed Kel's once, twice, feather-light, before returning to press more firmly. Kel closed his eyes and softened his mouth and gripped the edge of the mattress until it creaked to keep from wrapping his arms around Scotty.

After a moment, Scotty drew back and looked him in the eye. “Well?” he murmured. “Is it different?”

“What do you want me to say?” Kel said, as steadily as he could considering his heart was a juggernaut in his chest.

Scotty's eyes narrowed marginally. “The truth.”

Kel held himself still. “I don't think you know what you're letting yourself in for.”

Scotty rose to his feet carefully and moved to sit beside Kel, then turned his head with one finger on his cheek.

“Then show me,” he murmured. “I've heard I'm a pretty fast learner.”

“Oh man, this is a bad – ” Kel's protest was cut off by another kiss from Scotty, this one more insistent, more aggressive, more of everything Kel had ever wanted, and suddenly every objection he could think of melted, along with the rest of his scruples. He groaned and opened to Scotty's inquisitive tongue, meeting stroke for stroke in a sinuous dance.

When Scotty was busily stripping the shirt off him, Kel murmured, “Congratulations on your miraculous recovery,” and Scotty had the grace to peer at him sheepishly before starting on his pants. Kel's fingers glided down the curve of Scotty's back, molded to the jut of his hips, scrabbled at the knot in the towel and tugged it free.

“You let me know when it starts getting different,” Scotty reminded him as his warm, strong hand wrapped around Kel's cock. He licked at Kel's earlobe before biting it not-quite-gently, and Kelly moaned and arched into his grip.

“I'll – keep you – apprised,” Kel gasped, snapping his hips to get more sensation. Scotty tightened his hold when Kel returned the favor, and they began to move together, Scotty planting kisses on him wherever he could reach.

“Different yet?” he said into Kel's collarbone.

“I believe I feel a tingling sensation in my toes,” Kel replied, the Tony Curtis impersonation thrown off by the ragged panting. Scotty left teeth marks on his shoulder, then slid down the bed and without so much as a how d'you do licked a stripe up the length of Kel's cock before sucking him in.

“Oh, Christ!” Kelly exclaimed, because that was – oh, God, that was – “Yeah, okay, it's, yeah, it's – ” _you, God, it's you_, Kel thought, or perhaps he said the whole thing aloud, because Scotty groaned around his cock and pressed a firm thumb behind his balls and Kel promptly went off like a twenty-megaton nuke on the last day of the world.

    
    
    
    
   
    
    
    
    
 

  
“This is just what I wanted,” Scotty murmured against Kel's hair, “a night off.”

Kel grinned and tightened his hold around Scotty's ribcage. He was half-drowsing, as close to peace as he'd felt in decades. “I like your choice of vacation destination. I must holiday here again sometime.”

Scotty's fingers traced abstract shapes over Kelly's skin in an ancient language eager to be rediscovered. “We're very happy to have you with us.”

**Author's Note:**

> First published September, 2006.


End file.
